Several days had passed since Barron and the others had finally arrived in the Kingdom of Norenian. The people had gathered at the northern gate to welcome them home, while Celistine and the others awaited their arrival at the palace.
Above them stretched a brilliant blue sky, whilst the sun shone brightly overhead, as though the heavens themselves had chosen to celebrate their return. Cheers echoed through the crowded streets as Barron and his companions rode past, receiving warm greetings from the citizens they had safely returned to.
As Barron and the others guided their horses into the palace courtyard, they were immediately met by Celistine and the rest of the royal household.
"Rehena!"
Celistine's voice trembled with excitement as tears spilled from her eyes. At long last, she was seeing her dearest friend again.
She stood elegantly in a rich blue satin overdress adorned with delicate golden lace. The flowing skirt draped gracefully over an ivory underdress embroidered with soft blue floral patterns. Her golden hair was gathered into a neat bun, whilst her violet eyes shimmered with joy and relief.
"Thank goodness you're safe, Rehena," Celistine said softly.
The two women stood before one another, both overcome with emotion. Tears glistened upon their cheeks as they exchanged smiles through their sobs, unable to contain their happiness after such a long separation.
"My daughter..."
Lord Herbert's voice cracked between joy and sorrow as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Rehena. The tension he had carried for so long finally seemed to leave his shoulders as he held his only child close.
"Oh, Father... I've missed you so much..."
Fresh tears gathered in Rehena's eyes as she returned the embrace, clinging to him as though afraid to let go.
"I am grateful that you are safe."
Lord Herbert gently cupped her cheeks with both hands, carefully studying her face as though reassuring himself that she was truly standing before him.
Beside them stood Carlo, quietly witnessing the heartfelt reunion.
As Lord Herbert and Rehena continued their reunion, Celistine slowly approached Barron. Gratitude filled her heart for everything he had sacrificed to ensure Rehena's safety throughout their difficult journey.
"Thank you, Barron."
Barron immediately lowered his head. Placing his right hand over his chest, he offered a respectful bow.
"It was my duty to protect Her Ladyship and to fulfil the promise I made to you, Your Highness."
For a moment, Celistine's smile faded.
A shadow of sadness crossed her features.
She gently placed her hand upon Barron's shoulder.
The unexpected gesture caused him to stiffen slightly.
"You should see her," Celistine said quietly.
Barron's heart skipped a beat.
His eyes widened at once.
There was only one person he longed to hear about.
"She's upstairs. Go."
Without hesitation, Barron gave a single nod before moving past Celistine and heading straight into the palace.
The moment he heard those words, nothing else mattered.
He needed to see Grace.
Carlo watched Barron disappear into the palace corridors. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back towards Rehena and Lord Herbert.
Meanwhile, Barron hurried through the palace, ascending the grand staircase in search of Grace's chamber.
Yet as he approached her room, his pace gradually slowed.
A knot tightened in his chest.
Guilt weighed heavily upon him.
Ever since Grace's father had fallen in battle, the same thought had haunted him relentlessly.
He had not been there.
He had not stood beside her when she needed him most.
Barron stopped before the door and lowered his gaze.
"Do I deserve to face her?" he murmured to himself.
His jaw tightened.
"No... I won't allow her to suffer alone any longer."
Gathering his courage, Barron raised his hand and knocked.
Knock. Knock.
Silence answered him.
He waited.
Nothing.
Barron knocked once more.
Still, there was no response.
He knew Grace was inside.
He knew she simply lacked the strength to answer.
Slowly, he pushed the door open.
The chamber was dark.
Heavy curtains blocked the sunlight, casting long shadows across the room.
There, upon the bed, lay Grace.
She was facing away from the door, utterly motionless.
Barron's heart ached at the sight.
Without making a sound, he removed his sword and armour before carefully setting them aside.
Then he walked towards the bed.
Taking a seat beside her, he gently brushed a hand through her hair.
His expression softened.
Leaning closer, he whispered beside her ear.
"My love..."
Grace's eyes slowly fluttered open.
The familiar scent.
The warmth of a familiar touch.
For a moment, she thought she was dreaming.
But as she turned her head and saw Barron sitting beside her, shock immediately filled her tear-swollen eyes.
Her hair was dishevelled.
Her clothes were wrinkled.
Her face was pale from grief.
She had locked herself away within her chamber for so long that she had noticeably lost weight, barely finding the will to eat.
"W-Why... why did you take so long!...?"
Her voice broke between sobs.
The tears she had desperately tried to hold back finally escaped.
All this time, Grace had wanted someone beside her.
She had needed Barron.
Yet Barron had been away on a journey he could not abandon.
"~Barron... I just... needed you...~"
Her words dissolved into heartbreaking cries.
Barron's chest tightened painfully.
Without hesitation, he lifted a hand and gently wiped away her tears.
Then he pulled her into his arms.
Grace immediately clung to him.
Her both fingers gripped the back of his clothing tightly, desperately, as though she feared he might disappear again the moment she let go.
Both of her parents were gone.
The loneliness threatening to consume her was unbearable.
And now, Barron was all she had left.
"Shh... I know."
Barron's voice was barely above a whisper.
One hand cradled the back of her head as he allowed her to cry freely against his chest.
He held her firmly, offering the comfort she had long been deprived of.
"I'll never leave you again."
His voice trembled with sincerity.
"I promise."
Grace buried her face deeper against him as her sobs slowly continued.
For the first time since her father's death, she no longer felt completely alone.
And at last, the two of them were finally together once more.
*******
After everyone had finished preparing themselves following the small gathering before dinner, Celisitne invited everyone to gather for dinner, with King Henry, Carlo and Rehena present.
While the others waited for the last guests to arrive, Max remained in his chamber, standing before the tall mirror and staring at his own reflection. He wore a cream-coloured long-sleeved tunic embroidered with delicate gold thread, over a slate-blue vest woven with leaf patterns, fastened with toggles and finished with wide shoulder panels. A sturdy brown leather belt with a polished metal buckle sat at his waist, and on his feet were tall, dark boots — all lent to him by Carlo, for he had arrived with nothing when he fled to Gaspare, the land where he rightly belonged. His black hair fell loose around his shoulders, and his gaze lingered, troubled, as if searching for an answer within himself.
"Do I truly deserve to be here?" he whispered softly, his brow furrowing with doubt. "After all the wrongs and judgements I know of from the North…" A sharp, gentle knock broke through his thoughts.
Knock… knock…
A maid stood just outside the door, her hands folded politely before her.
"My lord… His Majesty and everyone are waiting for you in the dining hall," she said, her voice soft and respectful. Max shook his head slightly, as if casting aside heavy thoughts, and stepped out into the corridor.
The maid led him quietly through the palace, and as they walked, his eyes wandered over every portrait hanging along the walls, each one telling a story of the realm's history.
When they reached the dining chamber, all were already seated and waiting. The King of the North sat at the head of the long table. To his right was his eldest daughter, Celisitne; beside her sat Carlo, who smiled warmly the moment he saw Max. Next to Carlo was Rehena, who waved her hand gently in greeting.
Max felt his cheeks flush bright pink, overwhelmed by their kindness and open welcome, and quickly looked away, bashful. On the King's left sat Lord Herbet. Then Max noticed his aunt standing near the head of the table, just before the King and the rest of the company. It was clear Rehena had waited only for him, so that they might greet the royal household together. Rowena stepped forward first, bowing her head respectfully and placing one hand over her heart — a gesture Max mirrored instantly.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness Celisitne, and Your Highness Crown Prince Carlo… I bid you good evening," Rowena began, her tone steady and dignified. "I am Rowena Herasell Apondelia, the youngest sister of the late Queen Roselia Hestirea Apondelia Casinova of the Eastern Empire. And standing beside me is her son, Maxsimirian Callistro Casinova. We are deeply honoured and truly grateful to be here among you."
"Enough of such formalities," the King said, waving his hand in a relaxed, friendly way. "Let us simply enjoy this evening's meal. We are delighted you have come, for you are our most valued guests."
Max and Rowena exchanged a quick, surprised glance; neither had expected such warmth. With a small bow, they took their seats — Rowena sat beside Lord Herbet, while Max settled next to his aunt, and found himself directly opposite Rehena, who still smiled kindly at him.
"Will she not be joining us for dinner tonight?" Max heard Carlo ask the King in a low voice, and wondered who exactly he meant by 'she'. He glanced at the King, but His Majesty only smiled calmly, giving nothing away.
Soon after, Baron asked to be excused from the gathering, explaining he wished to spend the rest of the evening attending to Grace and giving her quiet company. Celisitne gave her permission at once, letting the two of them enjoy their time alone.
"Cilist has been worn out looking after me… best let her rest, Carlo," the King said, smiling gently as though trying to soothe his son's slight irritation — for Carlo's twin sister Cilist was indeed absent from the table. The long table was beautifully set with polished silver and lit by soft candlelight.
Servants moved gracefully between the guests, serving bowls of creamy leek soup, fresh warm bread, and a platter of aged cheeses. For the main course came tender roast venison in herb gravy, and duck glazed with sweet honey, accompanied by buttery root vegetables and golden roasted potatoes. To finish, they were served slices of apple tart, soft honey cakes, and a bottle of the finest imperial red wine.
Rowena took her first bite of the venison — prepared by Anna, the palace cook and Gilbert's wife — and her eyes widened in delight.
"I never imagined meat from the North could taste so wonderful," she whispered into Max's ear, chuckling softly.
Both were astonished by the richness and flavour of every dish placed before them.
Celisitne overheard their quiet conversation and smiled.
"The reason the meat is so tender and delicious is simple," she explained. "Our farmers here raise their livestock with great care, and this particular cut was brought to us by the famous merchant Herachi."
Rowena looked genuinely surprised, while Max wondered what sort of conversation his aunt and Celisitne might have had before this meeting.
"Is that so? I had no idea the North held such skill when it comes to food… it really feels as though I have stepped straight into paradise!" Rowena said, her tone light and playful.
"Goodness, Aunt… do try to behave yourself," Max whispered, nudging her gently in the ribs. Celisitne and the others laughed warmly at the sight of the pair's easy, familiar banter.
"I must apologise for my aunt's liveliness, Your Highness," Max said, bowing his head slightly.
To him, Celisitne was such a noble and respected figure throughout the land; he felt almost ashamed that they might seem unrefined before her, especially seeing how prosperous and gracious the North had become.
"Oh, don't be silly… please, be as you wish. After all, we are already like family here," Celisitne replied with a bright, sincere smile, and Max felt his heart lift with relief.
"My sister speaks the truth, my lord," Carlo added kindly, leaning forward slightly. "Please do exactly as you please; you are most welcome."
"How does the Eastern Empire fare these days?"
the King asked suddenly, breaking the easy mood.
"The King still rules the Eastern Kingdom well… that is all we truly know," Rowena answered with a polite smile, though her eyes showed uncertainty. She herself did not know exactly what had become of their homeland, and only Max knew the full truth — yet he chose to remain silent, not wishing to bring up difficult matters.
"Indeed…" the King said, taking a slow sip of wine.
But Celisitne did not let the moment drift into silence. She turned her gaze toward them, her expression growing serious.
"Is it true that the late Queen of Mondelia held great power over herbs and healing? Or is that merely an old legend?" she asked, her tone calm but firm. Rowena wiped her lips gently with her napkin before answering, her voice deep and steady.
"My sister was known as the greatest apothecary in all history. She developed remedies and cures that even the most skilled physicians, herbalists and healers could never match."
"Then why was she stripped of that title and position, even while she was Queen?" Celisitne pressed on. "And is it true she was unable to bear children? I ask because I never saw Him during the years she was Empress, nor when we once visited the Eastern Empire. "
Rumours spread far and wide that The late queen of eastern kingdom was barren… until, by some miracle, she gave birth — only to be accused of having a child born out of wedlock.
Rowena's expression hardened, and her voice carried a sharp edge of offence. "Forgive me, Your Highness… but are you insulting my sister with such words?"
"I intend no insult, nor do I wish to cause offence," Celisitne replied calmly. "But we must be certain that we were right to welcome you here and place our trust in you."
"And was that not the very reason you sent your people to the East? To discover whether the old tales were true or false?" Rowena countered. She remained perfectly composed, and Max could hardly believe it — the aunt he knew as light-hearted and carefree had suddenly become dignified and strong. He hesitated, unsure whether to speak or stay silent, for the presence and authority Celisitne carried was so great that even the King and Crown Prince did not dare interrupt her.
"If I may speak plainly, Your Highness… as Lady Rehena once told us," Rowena continued, "the North needs my sister's knowledge and skill. And among the few who survived the terrible massacre at Gaspare are many who were her pupils — people who still know how to prepare and use her healing herbs."
A heavy silence fell over the dining hall. Everyone stared at Rowena, stunned by her words. 'A massacre?' Celisitne thought to herself, her eyes widening in surprise. 'What does she mean?'
"A massacre?" the King asked aloud, leaning forward. "What happened there?"
"Your Majesty… may I speak?" Rehena asked softly, interrupting gently. When the King nodded, she began to explain, her face twisting with pain as she spoke, hands gripping the fabric of her dress tightly as old memories flooded back. "It was Sudden ordered by the King at that time… he commanded his knights to destroy every last person connected to the late Queen. They slaughtered innocent men, women and children without mercy. I saw it all with my own eyes — the cruelty that befell Gaspare, the land where the Queen and her son lived. Baron was there too… we witnessed every terrible thing that happened that day."
Pain flashed across her face.
The memories remained vivid.
The blood.
The screams.
The terror.
Everything she and Barron had witnessed that day continued to haunt her even now.